Mr. Mystery Suggests...
To Rival's mind, there were three sections to the library. Storybooks, Research, and Prudence. She was always there-- or so it seemed to him. In the least, she was very often there whenever he was also, always reading in the same area. She moved from place to place to get her reading material, but she always sat in the same chair, arm draped over the back and lounging at an angle with one hand holding up one of many dusty books. It was law to Rival that he was not to interrupt one who was reading. That was not how a person made friends. Instead, he would push books off of shelves from the opposite side whenever she got up that he thought she would like and then auspiciously tried not to be seen. At first, the tumbling times surprised her, if indeed worried her, until it was more suspicion which then transformed into something like a smile. He couldn't tell very well with being so far away by the time she looked at the front covers. At some point, she decided to read the books he pushed, and it wasn't so much that he was too shy to suggest them outright. The first time had simply set precedence. Besides, she obviously knew it was him if the book he found on top of his own bag wasn't proof enough. Rival picked it up, and like a ritual, rifled through its pages to know its age and care before reading a single word. It smelled new, as if it had recently been requested to be purchased. To make a home on the old shelves. He stole a glance to the area so fondly titled Prudence in his head and found her eyes on him. Lifting the book, he did the same with his eyebrows and mouthed, "Yours?"
prudence-ia
